


Intact

by sunflowerbright



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Girls in Love, References to PTSD, references to Canon typical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 18:51:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5138750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerbright/pseuds/sunflowerbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four pieces, set at the end of each series, focusing on some of Korra and Asami's smaller moments - that are actually quite bigger than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intact

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hathanta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hathanta/gifts).



> Birthday fic for Hathanta, for her twentieth birthday! She requested gross fluff, and I took that request, sprinkled it with a little angst and then made it as tooth-achingly sweet as I could. Enjoy

 

_Air_

The vase falls towards the ground almost in slow motion, and Korra is lifting her hand, gust of air reaching out to catch it, but she is too late, and she only succeeds in knocking it a bit to the side, before it hits the floor. The sound it makes as it shatters is as loud as a cannon, and she winces. The sound is too loud in a house that is too big, with too many empty rooms. She can hear footsteps already, soft patting and boots clicking against the marble floor: Asami and... Pabu? Korra looks over her shoulder and sees the fire ferret scuttle through the door. He stands up on his hindlegs and looks at her with his head to the side. As if he's accusing her. As if he's saying _I know what you did, Avatar Korra, that vase was expensive._

This is Asami's house, so yeah, it probably was. And then she enters, the dame herself, her heels making that sharp, high sound that she somehow carries even when she is walking on grass or snow. It should not be possible, but that high _click click_ is as much a part of Asami as her long curls and red lips. _Click clack_ it goes, the sound drifts up from her feet and weaves itself into that hair of hers. There's so much of it, and she always has it hanging mostly loose. Korra sometimes wonders how much time she spends combing it. There's never a hair out of place. Korra can only manage that herself when she has it pulled back. As soon as she has it hanging loose for more than a few minutes, it gets all tangled. Perhaps she should just cut it short.

"What happened?" Asami asks, staring at the broken vase. She doesn't sound upset, but why would she? Asami's rarely upset, really upset, unless it's about people kissing her boyfriend or her father betraying them all and then trying to kill her. Those should perhaps be in different order.

Korra feels a flush in her cheeks nonetheless, as if she's been caught red-handed sneaking treats to Naga under the table back home. She can almost hear her father's sigh. Bad enough she'd brought a polar bear dog into the house, but treating it like it was a monkey-cat or a platypus-hamster was really not the proper way to go about things. At least, so her father claimed.

"I had a, um, a small accident." She reaches up to tug at her hair, more than a little embarrased. "I'm sorry. I'll replace it."

Asami does not respond at first. She merely walks the rest of the way over the floor, _click clack click clack,_ and kneels down next to the vase. She reaches out and touches one of the larger pieces with the tips of her fingers. It was a pretty vase, too, and now Korra feels even worse. It was a creamy white, with blue swirls that reminded her of her home back on the South Pole. White upon white, and then blue, waterbenders moving and making the ice change shape, giving the snow life.

"Sorry," she repeats again. Asami shrugs, and looks up at her with a small smile. It's odd - Korra's used to Asami being taller than her, and looking at her when she's kneeling there on the floor is.. well, it feels odd. She can't tell if Asami really doesn't care, or if she's hiding her real feelings. Asami's good at that, she's learned. Or maybe Korra's just bad at reading her: she isn't always the best at reading people.

"It's fine," Asami says, and sounds like she means it. "It's just a vase, we have plenty."

"Here, I'll clean it up," Korra hastily says, feeling silly for not doing so already. Not that she had wanted to sweep away the evidence of her mishap, but suddenly it feels very rude to be standing here, and not doing anything about the mess she's created. She's the Avatar. Handling messes is her speciality. Though she's still learning. In some faraway part of her mind, she wonders if Aang ever broke vases like this. His Airbending was probably far better than hers, especially when he was her age, but you could knock things over just as easily with the other elements.

"Oh, there's no need, we can call the help..."

"No, no, I insist..." Korra says, well yells really, because she is used to small huts and open plains of white, and not big mansions with big, marble rooms, and her voice echoes around them like a beacon of sound, and then it's followed by the dull sound of two heads knocking together as Korra kneels down at the same time that Asami attempts to stand up and stop her from sitting down, and then there's grunts of pain from the both of them, and Korra somehow lands right on her ass, on the floor. Her legs are folded awkwardly beneath her, one knee brushing against Asami's, who is sitting in an almost identical position right across from her, rubbing her forehead. Korra's hands don't lift to hers, though it smarts as well, she just sits there kind of horrified at yet another mess she's made.

"I'm so sorry! I swear, I'm really not doing this on purpose!" One hand reaches up to push against her collarbone, like she always does when she's being earnest, one hand over her heart, like her father does: she'd mimicked it on purpose when she had been a young child, and her mother had laughed and laughed, and laughed even harder when her father had looked confused and asked _do I really do that?_ But now it's a reaction as instinctive to her as breathing. Hand over her heart, and she cannot lie.

Then Asami laughs, and with a single sound all of Korra's worries are swept away. They are soon replaced by a small inkling of worry that Asami is laughing at her, but it's faint, hardly there, because Asami has a beautiful laugh and Korra can't help but smile in reply.

"It's alright," Asami says, and her eyes are twinkling, and Korra thinks she's never seen Asami look so happy before - at least not since the mess with the Equalists, with her father. There's been little reason to laugh so hard, for a very long time. Korra's smile gets wider in return.

 

 

_Spirits_

 

When Korra steps down from the podium, having declared the Spirit World and the Mortal World as one yet again, she can feel her legs begin to shake. It doesn't mean that she regrets what she's done - it's just everything's catching up to her, and she needs a moment to breathe. She hasn't had one of those in so long, and it doesn't look like it'll come now - already people are pushing towards her, reporters shouting questions, cameras flashing and Tenzin speaking at rapid-fire, almost as quickly as Ikki, and who would have thought that was where the little girl got it from? Korra smiles at him in reply, and he doesn't seem to notice how tired she is. She's thankful when his attention is drawn away from her for a moment, but she knows there's little chance of escape from the horde of people around her. There's her parents, her father telling her he's proud of her, her mother pulling her into a hug, and then Bolin is there, shouting over her head to Bumi about how you can't name a spirit  _Bumjun,_ that's just wrong, and Bumi replies in turn, something about a wolf-snake and an earthquake, and Mako's asking her something as well, but Korra can't even hear him over the din of voices. 

Then someone is grasping her hand and pulling her through the crowd. She looks in surprise at Asami's shock of hair, dark and lustrous and somehow still all sitting perfectly despite everything that's been happening for the last few days. Not an inch of it is singed, not a single strand looks split. Korra feels self-conscious then, even though Asami isn't looking at her, and she flattens down her own hair with the hand that's free. Asami's pushing through the crowd with ease, everyone parting before her as if she's suddenly turned into Vaatu, and wouldn't that be a sight. Korra's pretty sure she wouldn't have won that battle, if Asami had been the one to fuse with him. She's determined, and suddenly they're away from everyone else, with no one following after them to ask the Avatar one more question. Korra's never felt so relieved in her life.

"You looked like you needed an escape," Asami says, and lets go of her hand again, once they're clear of the crowd. Korra never really feels the cold like people born in warmer climates do, but for some reason, her hand prickles and stings, as if she's scooped up a handful of snow in it without gloves on. Asami turns and smiles at her. Korra smiles back.

"I really did," she says. "Thank you. That was getting more harrowing than the fighting."

Asami snickers. "You looked all panicked. You don't look panicked when you're facing down Triads and angry Spirits, but the reporters always have you looking like you'd rather play hide and seek with the Equalists again." Then she sobers, the smile falling from her face like a shooting star flickering out of sight. "Are you alright? Bolin told me what happened, and then Mako did as well, and I was on the phone with Pema this morning. She said some pretty wild stuff about the fight in Republic City." She looks Korra up and down, as if expecting her to suddenly turn into a giant blue woman again. Korra wonders if she _can_ do it again: she'd like to see Asami's reaction. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there," Asami says then, and yeah, as she'd thought. Korra can't help but smile.

"I was bigger than your mechas," she brags, just a little. She's allowed to.

Asami just looks confused, however. "I... oh. Oh, that, right." She's smiling now too, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Yes, impressive. It was quite the sight, apparently. But I meant... I can't believe you had to go through all that alone.

  
_Alone._ The word hits her like a water-whip, right on the softest parts of her skin. Alone, that's what she is now, because even with Raava back, flooding her with light, there is no regaining her connection to the past Avatars, no lending of their strength, no kind words from Aang to help her get through it. For a short, horrible moment, Korra can feel tears prickle at the inside of her eyelids, and she thinks she is going to cry - again. She blinks, and they're gone. It's just not fair, she thinks - she had only just gotten her connection to the other Avatars, had only just started communicating with them, learning from them. Now they're all gone. Forever.

"Bolin and Mako were there, and Tenzin, Kya and Bumi, even Desna and Eska got some time to have fun, and... and you helped too." It's true: Asami always helps. Even when the fact that she's a non-bender should rule her out of the fight, she somehow manages to find a way to be useful. She's resourceful like that.

Asami nods. "Yes, of course, I just meant... your fight with Unalaq, your own uncle, and then he merged with Vaatu and you had... you're the Avatar, and you have the power to do this alone, but you shouldn't... it doesn't seem fair that you have to."

Korra isn't sure what to say. She's never thought about it that way. The Avatar has always had friends, of course, families to support them, if they're found and forged through fire or bound by blood. Korra knows she wouldn't have lasted a second, not against Amon, and certainly not against Unalaq and Vaatu, if she hadn't had so many people help her. She's grateful, and she knows Asami doesn't mean that she shouldn't be, that the other's fought for nothing. But she's still right: that last fight, she had gone in there alone. Jinora had helped her in the end - and Korra has yet to thank her for that, she needs to give that girl a hug so big she feels her ribs bend a little, but Korra hadn't known she would show up. She had been determined to do it alone, and at the time, it had been a testament of strength, a way to prove that what Tenzin had told her was true. She hadn't needed Raava to be special - she hadn't needed anyone. Korra alone, was enough, even to defeat the darkest creature this world had ever beheld.

She'd been proud of herself - she is still proud of herself. But she feels tired. Very, very tired, and somehow, the fact that Asami worries for her like this makes her feel safe instead of irritated or like she's being smothered. It isn't condescending: Asami never is, despite the way she's grown up. She's pretty amazing like that.

"Tell you what," Korra says. "Next time, I won't pick any fights without you there. Deal?" She puts up her hand, the tips of her fingers level with her eyes, and Asami grasps it in response almost immediately.

"Deal," she says."

 

 

_Change_

The hairbrush makes a soft sound when it does it's job. It's softer than the sound it makes when Asami brushes her own hair - Korra's had enough time here now to learn the differences, to really listen. There's a lot of silence these days. Korra doesn't really have the energy to talk, and Asami respects that. She doesn't let the silence overwhelm them, and she never seems afraid to talk, which Korra is grateful for: Bolin chatters away when he's here, like he always does, and Mako says almost nothing and looks at her as if he expects her to either break apart like a fancy old vase or start breathing fire at him at any moment. Korra is grateful that they come to check up on her, but she also can't stand it. Bolin looks at her with pity in his eyes. It makes her want to punch him.

Asami does none of those things. She talks when she needs to, or when she's feeling like it, like always, and it's nice. She doesn't ask Korra how she's feeling, if she's doing any better, if she's sure she can handle sitting like that or holding a damn book by herself. She's always there, even though she has a company to run. Korra honestly doesn't know what she would do without her. The nurses are helpful and everything, and they take good care of her, but they also are just doing their jobs and she doesn't know them. She remembers their names when she talks to them, but when she's not, their faces blur into one. Asami's face she always knows. Asami's there to make tea for her, every morning, and she brings a stack of books and a pai sho game, saying it was horrendous that the Avatar didn't know how to play. Korra isn't sure how she knows that, because she doesn't think she's ever told her. She's grateful for that disctraction.

Somehow, Asami is also there in the middle of the night, when Korra wakes up in so much pain that she can hardly see. She reaches out then, at the same time that Asami reaches for her, and she clutches the other woman's hand so hard that she can't believe she isn't breaking any bones. Asami doesn't utter a word of complaint, even though it must hurt. She sits by her bedside until Korra slips back into sleep, and then she's there by morning, and somehow doesn't look tired or unkempt - her beautiful hair is as perfect as ever. Her smile doesn't falter. Her eyes tell Korra that she's going to be alright.

She helps her with everything, and Korra doesn't know how to say thank you. There's friendship, and then there's helping someone go to the toilet and bathe and dress herself, and she knows that Bolin and Mako would do it too, that Tenzin or the kids would be there in a heartbeat, that even Lin would be there to steady her if she needed her to, but somehow, the thought of them helping her like this is just... unbearable. Asami didn't ask if she should help, if there's anything Korra needs, like the others are constantly doing. It gets tiring, and it's tiring to feel that way, because Korra knows that they mean well. What else are they supposed to do? But Asami is there, as if it's her job to be, her duty, but Korra doesn't want to think of it like that. She can't really stand the idea of Asami doing this because she feels that she has to. She isn't getting that vibe from her, anyway, but it's harder to tell - even more difficult because it is almost impossible to percieve anything except her own pain. There's a hazy fog all around her, it feels like, and she wonders if it will ever go away.

It helps when Asami's there. She doesn't chase it away - in some corner of Korra's mind, she knows that the only one that can do that is herself. Asami just... lessens it a little. When she's brushing Korra's hair it helps a lot, in particular. It's nice, and Asami never rips at knots, or yanks at her hair. Korra thinks maybe her own hair's so unkempt because she's so harsh with it. Asami seems to have learned how to treat her hair like it's royalty all on it's own.

The thought make Korra's lips quirk in a smile. It doesn't last long, but Asami stills for a moment, and places one hand down on Korra's shoulder.

"There," she says. "You look perfect."

That's a lie if ever she's heard one. But then again, looking in the mirror's become so hard lately, and Korra hardly ever does it. Perhaps she's undergone some kind of magical transformation in the last few hours. It's happened before.

She doesn't think Asami's lying when she says it, though. That's the thing about Asami, she doesn't really lie. She reaches up, slowly, and places her hand over the one resting on her shoulder. They stay like that, for a few moments that turn into many.

Korra wonder when Asami's going to get sick of taking care of her like this. It will be soon, probably. Korra just hopes that she's left for the South Pole before that happens. She isn't sure if she could stand it.

 

_Balance_

Korra wakes because there's hair in her mouth. Sily-soft, beautiful, perfect hair, sure, but still. Hair in her mouth! She splutters as she spits it out, and Asami lets out a noise in reply that isn't quite a snore but close enough that it makes Korra giggle. Asami's lying on her side with her back to Korra, long, black hair spread out to viciously attack the Avatar, right in the face. Korra carefully pushes it out of the way. It smells like lavender and faintly of oil, like racetracks and the bathtub in her mansion - well, one of the bathtubs. The one that's so big Korra's pretty sure that Asami is telling the truth when she claims she learned how to swim in that one. She wonders if it's in the mansion that Asami also learned to go to bed late and rise early, as if she's running on the same kind of fuel her satomobiles are. On their holiday, it's the first time Korra has ever known her to sleep in. It's kind of funny, being awake before Asami, who makes soft sounds and sometimes mutters in her sleep, traceless sentences about new grids or gears, and Varrick being an idiot again. Sometimes, she says Korra's name, and Korra has to wake her then, whenever she hears. Asami hasn't minded being woken up with kisses, at least not this far. She also hogs the covers when she sleeps, because she's always cold, she claims. Last night she had primly told Korra that it was her duty, as the Avatar, to ensure that she was warm. _To bring balance,_ she'd said, and Korra had laughed and put her arms around Asami, letting her skin run hot with light fire, and Asami had complained that it was too warm, then. _Balance, Korra,_ balance _, honestly._ Then she'd fallen asleep, so her complaints clearly hadn't been that serious.

They'd drifted apart sometime in the night - or maybe the morning, because it's closer to afternoon now, if the Spirit World has such a thing as afternoon. That won't do: and sleeping for this long won't do either, not when there are sights to see, exciting new places to visit. Korra buries her face in Asami's neck, soft hair tickling her nose, but now she tells herself she's attacking her hair right back, so it's only fair.

"Merrh... what is happening... ah, Korra, what are you.. that tickles!"

Korra smiles and blows on Asami's neck again, and holds her close when she twists to get out of her grasp. "Come on, that's not fair, you can't attack me when I'm sleeping!"

"Can't I?" Korra lifts her head, mostly so that she can see Asami's face. She looks a little bleary-eyed from sleep, but she is definitely awake. Her hair's like a dark crown, falling all around her, and even after she's slept, even after Korra's been messing with it, it still looks perfect. Maybe Asami is magic. Korra's pretty sure that theory is sound. "It was your hair that started it."

Asami's a little breathless from laughing, but she still manages to give Korra an incredolous look. "My _hair_?"

"Yep," Korra says, letting go of Asami with one hand so she can run her fingers through the dark tressers. Asami doesn't hesitate to take that opening, and all the air leaves Korra as the world spins around, and then she's on her back, Asami hovering over her with a smug smile on her face.

"Ha! I've got you now, Avatar Korra," she says. Instead of Asami's hair, it's her fingers that gets tangled in Korra's, and Korra can't say that she minds.

"Oh no," Korra says, her voice a fake monotone compared to Asami's crowing, as if she's some villain about to win before the cut of the scene. She's never been a very good actor - she doesn't understand how Bolin can do it, or how Asami can, when she's so earnest about everything else. She likes it, though. She can't help but laugh when Asami lifts one eyebrow in an imitation of the face Varrick usually makes when he's about to hatch some mad scheme. "If only," Korra says, hardly able to get the words out with a straight face, without laughing. " _If only_ some strong, brave, independent and beautiful woman with an electro-glove could save me!"

Asami makes a snickering sound, her mask cracking for a moment. She lets go of Korra's hand, reaches up to cup her face, fingers streching over her cheek. She's got soft fingers - calloused from all her work, with scars from burns and little nicks, but incredibly soft still. "I don't think you need any saving," she says. She leans down, slowly, her breath warm on Korra's skin. Warmer than fire, Korra thinks, and she should know.

"No," Korra says. "I guess I don't." Certainly not from this, she thinks, as Asami closes the rest of the distance between them and her lips brush against Korra's. She closes her eyes, and there's sparks of green back there, the color of Asami's eyes, imprinted on her mind.

_No_ , Korra thinks, _I definitely don't need any saving from this._


End file.
